


thicker than water

by berryparty



Category: bittersweet candy bowl
Genre: heavy suicide mentions, it's about jordan coping with lucy's attempt so, so please be cautious of that and stay safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 03:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18402488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryparty/pseuds/berryparty
Summary: There's no rulebook for how to go about coping with a suicidal family member, especially one who attempts. There's no guideline to go off of to process it, which leaves Jordan in a state of confusion, hurt and anger. When his little sister returns, Lucy seems to be settling back in quite nicely. But unbeknownst to her, her obnoxiously over-protective older brother had some struggles of his own. And what happens when he's unable to hid his qualms from his baby sister?Based on a lovely work of fanart by Garb on candybooru. (https://www.bittersweetcandybowl.com/candybooru/post/view/12951?search=garb_%28Artist%29%20lucy%20jordan)





	thicker than water

**Author's Note:**

> initially, i wanted to do this as a short comic, dive straight into jordan confronting lucy and them having a heart-to-heart, but that's difficult without analyzing what jordan must have gone through.  
> obviously, this whole thing will be chock full of references to suicide, talk about suicide, ect so please, please make sure you as the reader are able to safely read it. suicide is a hard topic, one i know is hard to read about when you aren't in the best state of mind. so take care of yourself, make sure you're safe.  
> another thing, i'm basing jordan's reactions on his in the comic. was he really this angry? was the whole day a haze for him? i don't know. i also don't everything that went on in the household, so for the sake of this fic i'm assuming and doing the best i can based on what i have. another thing, i never mentioned the pets and i don't have any intention to. the focus is on jordan, not whether they packed up three pets to go to the hospital.  
> some things may not be accurate to the comic, but like i said i'm assuming and taking liberties for the sake of the fic. since bcb leaves jordan's life pretty open-ended anyway.  
> this chapter and the next are recounts of the day lucy was in the hospital. i wanted to get jordan's reaction to it in before lucy coming home and how he coped with that. so all that being said, enjoy!

There was something up with her, Jordan had known that. She'd seemed more down than usual, but all of a sudden it had been like a switch flipped. Something just clicked, and everything went wrong. Now, leaning over his little sister's hospital bed, his arms coddling his head as he rested against the plush blanket, Jordan couldn't help but ask himself why. Why didn't he notice sooner? Why didn't he do more to help her? Why couldn't he have been a better brother, the brother he was supposed to be?

Sure, they fought sometimes. Lucy wasn't always a pleasure to deal with all the time, but that was sibling nature. You fight, then you make up, that's how it is. You never expect your sister to actually try and take her own life. There's no handbook for being an older brother, and there certainly isn't one for how to handle it when you almost lose the younger sibling you're supposed to be there for. So, why? Why didn't he see the signs? Why didn't he do anything? What could he have done to avoid this?

Deep down, Jordan knew there was nothing to be done. Whether she was leaving Roseville or not, this would have happened anyway. It was inevitable. Lucy was stubborn, he knew that. If she believed that everyone was better off- Jordan couldn't even finish that thought without tears burning in his eyes. He hated the thought of her leaving. Almost in a childish manner, like being forced to leave a favorite toy at home. He resented it more than anything.

Wouldn't it be better for her, though? To not be in the place where her stressor exists, laying dormant in wait for another chance to attack and take her away permanently? Looking up at Lucy, her fur dishevled with tired bags under her typically bright eyes. Bandages and wires hooking her up to machines. The sight only reminded him of his failure to be there for her. He supposed there was no point in wishing the past could be changed, that was impossible. Again, telling himself, this was inevitable. Jordan wasn't one to believe in fate, but he couldn't see any other senario.

Everything after that was a blur, riding home from the hospital seemed like a far off memory. This town he'd grown up in, these surroundings, these buildings, all the memories of landmarks and street signs that had embedded themselves in his mind, they all seemed so distant and far away. Staring blanky out the car window on the ride home, the only thing that snapped him out of his foggy haze was the glimpse of Mike's house, the boiling, bubbling anger that crashed like angry, violent waves in his gut as he remembered the Korat boy. 

What had he done to Lucy? It had to be him, out of all her stupid friends it had to be fucking Mike. His brows knotted so tightly as he thought about what that stupid grey idiot could've possibly done to Lucy that it hurt his head, worsening the dull ache that had been there since the first hospital call.

. . .

The call had come early in the morning, though Jordan couldn't remember when. All he remembered was being woken up by his mother in tears, her gentle voice broken with heartache as she told him Lucy was in the hospital because of a suicide attempt. She was stable, but she wasn't concious. It took him far too long to be able to wrap his head around the concept. Lucy was in the hospital. A suicide attempt. 

The morning felt like going through all the stages of grief at once, except acceptance. Never acceptance. Denial, no, no way Lucy was in the hospital for that. Disbelief. Anger, the fuck she really did that, how could she do that? Pain. Bargaining, I could've done something, I should've done something. What could I have done? Confusion. Depression, what's the point of holding out hope? She almost died, so what's it matter? Horrendous, mind-numbing sadness. Every emotion and thought grief could possibly create consumed Jordan like an angry swarm of wasps, hungry and violent. Everything, everything but acceptance. This he wouldn't accept.

"Mom, I can't." He'd managed to choke out, unwilling to let himself cry despite every muscle screaming at him to just break down. None of them could look at each other. Mom, Sam, neither of them could handle it, as if looking would be a confirmation that this is truly happening and there was no way any of them could believe it was real. "I'm not going to the hospital, I can't do it." Jordan reiterated, covering his eyes with an arm in a pathetic attempt not to let the tears begin to flow in fear that they'd never stop.

No one spoke a word. His mother gave him a hug, weak and discouraged, and left with Sam. That's when Jordan broke, the second the door clicked shut, that's when he let out a wail. They weren't leaving for the hospital, he told himself, there's no way his baby sister was laying in a hospital bed right now. They hadn't called dad to tell him to drive in. Everything was normal. He'd walk up the stairs, see Lucy's room expertly decorated with her things. He'd stop feeling the pain that seemed to hit him with every pound of his racing heart.

But he knew that wasn't true. He knew it even before he twisted the doorknob to her room and flung the door open, only to see it completely lifeless. There was no trace of Lucy here, no evidence anyone had ever existed in this space. Collapsing to his knees, Jordan barely even felt the floor as he pressed his hands against it, steadying himself. What would Lucy say, if she saw him like this? Perhaps some snarky comment about the invasion of privacy, or how Jordan was being an obnoxious jerk-face. Only for her to turn around and see the pain contorting his face and the tears that didn't seem to end streaking down his cheeks and console him. Tell him everything would be okay, have that rare moment of softness. But that wasn't going to happen, and it tore him apart.

A knock on the door broke him out of his trance. Quickly wiping the tears from his face, he ran down the steps. Taking a steadying breath, he opened the door, only to come face to face with a rag-tag group of friends. "Hey... Uh... Jordan, is it?" It took one moment of recognition to realize these were Lucy's friends. Mike. Paulo, Daisy, a few others who's names he didn't care to recall. A split second of recognition ignited a red hot anger inside him, his eyebrows furrowing before he slammed the door shut. Not a word. They didn't deserve that. How could they? None of them helped Lucy either, especially not based on what he knew of them.

Banging on the door forced Jordan to turn, resting his back against it and doing his best not to slide back down onto the floor, no matter how weak his legs felt. "Open the door, you little shit! This isn't funny!" 'No. It isn't fucking funny.' Jordan thought, reaching up to cover his ears with his hands. 'My sister is in the hospital, of course it isn't funny.' Despite Jordan's silent and unspoken pleads, Paulo persisted. "What are you hiding? Where is she?" 'Why do you care?' "I know you're in there! Open the door!"

It didn't seem to stop, why couldn't these kids just leave him alone? "Jordan, ignore him." He hoped whoever that was would shut up soon. This was getting exahausting. He couldn't think straight. Guilt consumed him as he listened to their begging, but no. No. They don't get to know. "He's being overdramatic. Look, we're Lucy's friends-" 'Like hell you are.' 

Jordan blocked them out, refusing to listen any longer. Just go away. Just go the fuck away! Pounding on the door shook him as Paulo called his name again, "Jordan! What happened to her! Jordan!" No. No, you don't get to know. Not you. Not the man-whore who screwed her over.

He waited until their chatter subsided, until the cruch in the snow receeded. After crying for who knows how long, slumped against the front door, he finally stood and shakily grasped the doorknob, making his exit. He was ready to see her now. Alongside the fact he just didn't want to be at home any longer. The house wasn't home without Lucy. The yard felt foreign now, somehow. Everything was so dizzying. Even more dizzying, the anger that filled him as he saw Mike leaning against a telephone pole. He looked so innocent, so unaware. So unbothered. It made Jordan sick to his stomach.

"Jordan, I just wanna-" 'Oh, hell no. Not you. This is your fault, somehow. I just know it.' "I'm not talking to you." Jordan spat out, tail bristling as he continued past the grey, stupid scarf-wearing boy. Irritation surged through his viens as Mike followed. He stopped, closing his eyes. "Stop following me." Spoken without question, barked out. A demand. A threat. Stop following me, or else. Yet, Mike persisted. "What happened?"

Spinning around on his heels, Jordan pulled his arm back, "As if you care!" He swung, just hoping to knock that stubborn expression off Mike's face, maybe force him to the ground, but Mike simply grabbed Jordan's fist like it wasn't a problem. "So are you gonna tell me or not?" 'Fuck you.' He thought, but Jordan backed off, hatred in his bi-colored gaze as he stared at Mike in the eyes for a moment, before turning to walk off again, "It's none of your damn business."

"I'm going to keep following you until you tell me." Did he not know when to stop? Why did he care? This is his fault! "Just go away!" Jordan couldn't control his volume, his voice cracking under the pressure. Anger only increasing at Mike's nonchalant, "No." Rushing forward, with tears in his eyes and a desperation he'd never felt, he grabbed this stupid boy by his shoulders, "I said go away!" That was it. He couldn't force the tears back anymore, couldn't force the anger. Couldn't force denial. He'd come confronted with the one thing he'd refused: acceptance. 

Tears pooled in his eyes, lining his face with salty wet no matter how much he tried to blink it away. "It's all your fault you know." Falling to his knees, he'd never felt so pathetic. So lost, hurt and alone. How could he handle this? Was this kind of anguish and fear even managable? He'd barely heard Mike say his name over the pounding in his head. "I just-" He didn't want to finish that. He didn't want to confide in Mike, no matter how vaguely. Still, acceptance had come, and he couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth, "I don't want to lose my little sister."

Mike jerked away, pushing past Jordan and breaking into a sprint. "Wh-where are you going?" He yelled after him, unable to conceal the break in his tone. Unable to force the tears to stop as he watched the Korat depart down the sidewalk, making a beeline for the bus stop. "Don't-" He began, but the words died in his throat. Mike knew now. 'Idiot!' Jordan picked himself off the ground, feeling defeated and weak as he sniffled, half-heartedly wiping tears away as he began a slow trek to the bus stop. He'd just have to catch the next one.

. . . 

"Jordie?" His mother's voice and a timid knock at the door tore him from replaying the memory. How it was so vivid when everything else melded together was beyond him. Perhaps it was the anger, the only genuine emotion he'd felt today, aside from fear. Everything else was numb now. "Baby, you can't sit here in the dark." He rolled over, unwilling to talk to anyone. That earned a hurt sigh from his mother, but what could he do? He could barely think straight, let alone talk about it. It. He couldn't even admit what that it was. "It's fine, mom. Just... trying to nap." He grumbled, lazily drawing the comforter over his shoulders. The fabric rustled, seemingly the loudest thing in the world aside from the deafening beat of his heart.

He heard the door shut. No words, not that there was a lot to say. Squeezing his eyes closed, Jordan rolled back over onto his back, arms outstretched and hands lolling lazily off the edge of the bed. His tail-tip twitching and sliding on the fabric of his sheets seemed like it could be heard a mile away. His clock's monotone ticking. The droning beat of his heart. Over and over. Tail twitching, clock ticking, heart beating. Tail twitching, clock ticking, heart beating. Abrutly sitting up, it took everything in him not to cry out in anger. Get up from his bed and tear apart his room, knock anything he could and break it. Break that stupid ticking clock His fists balled so tightly that he could feel his claws digging in, a sharp prick that was almost drowned out by the burning, seething anger that raged in him like a wild forest fire.

Snatching his phone off the sidetable, Jordan quickly scrolled through his contacts, hands shaking as he tapped, holding the phone to his ear as a sudden anxiety filled him. The first ring passed. Did he want his friends to know? The second ring passed. Was he even up for seeing anyone today? A click, then a voice on the other line signaled it was too late to turn back now.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Matt? I really need someone right now."


End file.
